Hellion
by Ink-Dash
Summary: When a garage worker with a mysterious past is drawn into a war over a new resource, all hell breaks loose.
1. Chapter 1

Battle for Hellion Crater

WARNING! Moderate language usage!

"Energy running low, need to let the protonium recharge!"

"Got it, covering you!" He turned his mech towards the oncoming drones, punching the button in his cockpit that projected a blue disc into the air between them and the volleys of plasma fire coming from the enemy helicopter.

"Three, two, one, fully charged! Alpha strike, now! A three shot volley flared out from a large, two barrel weapon mounted on the mech's right shoulder, resembling a very large shotgun. As the shots struck the helicopter on one of it's many blades, causing it to shudder and begin tipping downward, looking as if it were land-bound.

"Woo-hoo!" The mech pilot could be heard exclaiming through the secure comm channel.

Just then, however, a red glow enveloped the destroyed rotor blade, and in seconds the burn marks and damaged blades were repaired.

"What in the name of…" On top of the regenerating rotor blade, a red beam had just crashed down between the two mechs. Nanoseconds later, the beam expanded, completely decimating the mechs' electroplating and all other systems on the mechs as it passed through them. Before their vision systems flickered out, they saw the helicopter move overhead, and fire what would be the last plasma bursts they would ever see.


	2. Chapter 2

"Brand new parts just came in! We got 3 mech leg centaurs, a mech leg titan", which was followed by a few cheers from the assembled crowd. He waited for it to die down and continued. "Plenty of electroshields A and B, as well as a few D class. Of course we got some more chassis cubes, and aero rods." Just about everything you could think of had been given a nickname in this hunk of metal many people called their workplace, and home.

"Oh, yippee, who cares? Unless we get a haul this good every month, we'll be out of business in weeks!" This drew murmurs of agreement from the crowd, and a few insults hurled from the mouths of disgruntled garage workers, but the manager could not tell who it came from. Either way he knew it was true. Until a few months ago, They had gotten shipments every week or so, but recently the shipments had not only dropped in quality, but frequency as well. It was rare they received anything worthy of a death match bot, much less a bot for the pit. Deathmatches focused upon teamplay and coordination, and the last team standing won, whereas the pit put bots up against each other in a free for all in which to the victor go the spoils. Although often there was almost nothing left.

And Max was through with it.

Every week he received the same letter to his office. He had called it an office again. _This isn't an office. No one here has an office. They have a trash pile with a table and chair. You can't even make grilled cheese in this place without burning it. It's like I can smell it. Eugh. Wait, I_ can _smell it!_ A thin smoke trail led out of his small desktop computer. _Damn computer! This is the third time this week I've had to fix this goddamned machine._ The smell of burnt circuits laced the air. _It'll probably need a new motherboard,_ again _._ He decided to put that off for a bit. He still had plenty of paperwork. Including the letter from the DOWD, or Department of Waste Disposal. It was DOWD policy that and thing capable of recycling, was recycled. Earth's resources had depleted _ages_ ago, and the DOWD was not letting it happen again in our new home. _If you can call this burning ball of sand a home._ They had colonized a planet just outside the solar system that, miraculously, had avoided detection for decades due to a strong magnetic field that distorted the space around it to appear that it was not there. And until the sonar sweeps of the expeditionary crew found the invisible Mars-like planet, they had no inkling salvation lay just outside our home. The heat radiated from a massive core nearly the size of Earth. And every week, the letter wound up in his office, that every week stated:

 _To whom it may concern,_

 _We apologize for the lack of recycled parts. We would like you to know that the success of your business is, invariably, our top priority. Due to unforeseen events, some parts have been lost over the course of this week. We hope to get a full shipment to you next week._

 _Sincerely,_

 _DOWD_

 _In other words, bullshit. They don't give a fuck about us. Otherwise, we would have parts. Plenty of them._


	3. Chapter 3

_2 Months Later_

"It's over. We're done."

Two sets of words he had never thought he could be so conflicted about. On one hand, he was pissed. His only source of income, gone. On the other hand, he was glad he would be able to start again, hopefully with equipment that only broke down twice a week. _If even._ But he had no chance at a job that didn't look like it came from the dump. If you worked in trash once, forever shall you work in trash. _I should write that one down, oh right . I don't_ have _paper. I have this cardboard box and a sign._ The sign read;

GARAGE WORKER

FOR HIRE

SKILLED REPAIRMAN

He had been sitting at the corner of this alley for 3 days now. His ability to eat dwindled rapidly along with the weight in his pocket. Soon he would have to resort to true beggaring, or just crawl into a corner and wait for nature to take its course. Beggars weren't uncommon in a place like this, he had passed at least 4 every day on his way to the garage. He looked up and noticed two people walking down the sidewalk towards him, more purposefully than the average commuter. Well, _if they want to rob me, it's not like they'll find much. Unless they're into cardboard. If they want to hire me, however…_

He let the thought trail off, as the two men had just stopped in front of him. He needed to focus, 3 days on rations didn't constitute a focused mind.

 _Well damn. If this is going to be it, I wish I had gotten that pie from the sto- damn it! Focus, Max!_

The men were wearing what seemed to be one of the old flight suits from a jet. Each held no visible weapons, but he saw a slight bulge in the slightly taller man's right pocket. Not noticeable if you weren't looking for it, but of course, he was. The size indicated some sort of small knife or brass knuckles.

"What do you want?"

"For you to come with us."

"And if I don't?"

The shorter of the two looked him over, and probably figured they'd be in more danger fighting a feather. "I'm thinking you're in no condition to refuse, Max."

Max started in surprise. "Wa- how do you know my name?"

"Your history on Earth proceeds you, Hawk One."


	4. Chapter 4

Max was frozen with shock.

"That, that is a name I have not heard for over 15 years. And one I had never wanted to hear again. Now what do you want?"

"We can't explain here," the man said. The taller man had not stopped watching for threats the entire conversation. His eyes suddenly widened and he leaned over to whisper to the other man.

After they finished conversing, the shorter man said "We're going. Now."

"What! I'm not going any-"

A gunshot rang out across the street, and the taller man fell with a red stain spreading across his chest.

"Now, Max!" He pulled Max to his feet and they ran through the streets, cutting left and right to avoid the gunshots. As they ran, something occurred to him. Although for years before the move to the new planet, physical guns had been commonplace, none had been seen since the development of laser weaponry. He never really understood how suddenly lasers as weapons had become viable after years of failed projects. One of his friends who had been in science tried to explain it to him, something about a classified new energy source that was used in the power packs. He never could understand it. All he knew was that production of this new element had, essentially, been an accident. His friend was one to go on and on, and he cut himself off just in time. They dove behind a market stall just as a gunshot grazed the man's shoulder.

"Gah-! Damn that hurts!"

The wound didn't look deep, he was lucky it didn't go lower or he may have lost use of his right arm. "We need to keep going! Just a little farther and we'll be at the buggy!"

We were a few dozen feet from the city gates when the whine of ion drives could be heard getting closer, _fast_. As the whine grew to an almost unbearable screech, it seemed that some government craft had seen fit to deafen the city, until he saw the black dots in the sky growing rapidly larger.

The man yelled, "Those are bombs! We need to get out of the city now!"

"Who the hell would drop bombs on a populated city for you two?"

"They didn't."

"Then can you explain exactly what _is_ happening right now?" Max's voice was laden with sarcasm.

He looked over at Max. "They aren't trying to kill us! They're trying to kill _you_!"

"What! Me? Why am I a targ-" the rest of Max's response couldn't be heard as the deafening rumble from the bombs sent the city gate tumbling down behind them.


	5. Author Note

This story is basically a side-side-side- _side_ project for me, so for anyone interested in more, I doubt there will be more than one chapter every 4 or 5 months, if even that. However, if this story ends up with more interest than others, I may focus on it more. It would take a lot to achieve that amount though, so I'm afraid that for those waiting, it will be a very long wait to see much development. Also, I'm sorry for any heart attacks I may have caused when you saw that a new chapter had been posted!

Thanks for your understanding!


End file.
